


by the candlelight flicker and the old wind hymns

by lechatnoir



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 01:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5724934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechatnoir/pseuds/lechatnoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ask meme prompt based off of radical face's discography : no. 10  - “and i know that i miss you / but i don’t even know your name”</p><p>or, in which wanda maximoff floats in an out of the dream world and reality, and deals with demons that seem to be far larger than life, and there's a woman all dressed in gold and green who smiles at her warmly and yet, she cannot remember her name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	by the candlelight flicker and the old wind hymns

no. 10 : “and i know that i miss you / but i don’t even know your name”

or, the faint glimpses between spells and old hymns on her lips, and she thinks of red hair and flames but there is no name that she can remember to the woman who simply smiles warmly at her in between reality and her dreams. 

 

i. 

It’s easier now, to whisper the familiar chants and incantations, open up old dusty books with carefully bound spines and drink in the spells and knowledge that she once hid away. It’s easier to differentiate between which herbs would help her get her strength back (you’ve got more grey hairs now, and your bones are beginning to rattle ... ) which ones poison her spells if she doesn’t get the proper measurements down. 

 

She starts to write things down in between her travels - first New York, then Greece - and she wonders if the change in air or the fact that she’ll be going home soon, back to the mountains that are alien and familiar and she wonders if she can sleep at ease at some point in her life. 

 

(you’ve got too many mistakes to correct, little dove - you cannot rest, not now) 

 

There’s a bitter smile on her face as she contemplates why out of all times, magic had to be broken now - it’s probably your fault - and she can only sigh and sip her tea before tugging her cape closer to her, finding comfort in the familiar fabric and the weight on her shoulders. 

 

There are times where she dreams, rare nights in between constant thinking and wondering at the energy that both drains her and empowers her, wonders how is she not dead yet - and there’s something like a candle flickering back to life with a crackle and she dreams of mountains and fire and a woman with red hair with a smile on her face. 

 

When she wakes up alone in the room - Agatha isn’t here - she shivers and looks at the candle sitting on the nightstand, a faint ember flickering before being blown out by the morning breeze and she shakes her head and wonders why. 

 

ii.

Jean Grey thinks of howling winds and throws her weight into the white wall that stares back at her, a grunt escaping her as she tries again to get out this room, a laugh that screams of death and life and fire escapes the bird that looks at her, flames dancing along its body and what the equivalent of a smile appearing on its face. 

“What?” she snarls, and sends a glare at the Phoenix Force, fingers clicking and tapping against each other as she grew more and more frustrated with simply being locked up here - I need to get out of here I need to get out of here I need to get out -- and she’s about to try again, even though she knows it’s futile, but she managed to escape, even for a few seconds and enter some sort of realm, she was able to get out for a few minutes, and she needed to escape from here, to get away from the Phoenix Force who simply cocked its head at her curiously and stared at her. 

 

Part of it was that she needed to get away from the four walls which she was trapped in, another part was to see the scarlet clad woman whose eyes flickered with magic and warmth and there was some sort of tug that Jean felt, even if she didn’t know the woman’s name. 

 

iii.

Two days passed, then three more days, and every night the candle beside Wanda’s nightstand would flicker back to lift after she had extinguished it. At first, it amused her and she muttered “Agatha, I know you think this is amusing but I would rather not have this place set on fire because you’ve suddenly decided to play games with me.” To which, Agatha Harkness replied with “That’s not me, dear. And besides, you’re too old to play with anyway!” 

 

“Charming as ever, Agatha” Wanda muttered, a faint smile on her face as she sighed and climbed into her bed, bones shaking and hands trembling but she blinked once, twice, and forced herself to take deep breaths, heart slowly stopping in it’s frantic race into a panic attack -- that’s it... just keep breathing. -- and she wonders, if things will ever be normal again, if she’s allowed to finally redeem herself , and thinks that she needs to sleep instead of thinking about situations that aren’t even remotely close in her grasp. 

 

It’s when she closes her eyes with a sigh and slips into her dreamworld that she can finally think -- and this time her dreamworld leads her through the city of New York, traffic and noise blurring into the background as she steps into the midday rush hour, shoes clicking against the asphalt and a hymn on her lips as she slips through the crowd, wandering into the quieter areas of the city, into old alleyways filled with antique shops and rust worn locks sitting on iron clad fences. 

 

It’s there that she bumps into a woman with flaming red hair and emerald green eyes and there’s a sudden burst of joy in her chest that bubbles up into a quiet gasp - 

 

“Sorry!’

‘No no, I’m sorry, I didn’t see where I was going --” 

 

There’s a smile on the woman’s face and Wanda’s about to ask what her name was when she heard it - faint and subtle but it was there, a quiet crack! like the sound of glass breaking, growing louder by the second as she felt the dreamworld start to collapse and suddenly -- suddenly, she wakes up in cold sweat and watches the candle by her nightstand flicker once, twice, and then fizzle out, and suddenly things seemed odder than usual. 

 

“Agatha... is it possible for people to communicate via dreams?” 

 

There was a hum from the ghost before she piped up “Well, technically yes. If they have a strong connection to each other and are still alive and either one either has innate abilities to communicate telepathically or who can dabble in magic like you, then yes, it’s quite possible.Why do you ask? Have you been secretly having rendezvous with some strapping young lad or lady and haven’t had the guts to tell me?” - there’s a smile on Agatha’s face but Wanda just rolls her eyes and says “No, not that but I think ... someone is trying to communicate with me, and I don’t know her name but this time when we bumped into each other in the dream there was this odd feeling in my chest.... “ 

 

(later, she’ll think of home when she realizes what had happened -- but she doesn’t know, and it’s almost as if it’s a plot to one of those cheesey mystery romance novels she’d read from time to time, when the days were dark and dreary and things seemed to topple on top of her like a mountain, slowly crushing her minute by minute) . 

 

{to be continued}


End file.
